


What Would I Be Without You?

by jargedcoffee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst and Fluff, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Barista!Dean, Can't decide on a summary so just read it, Castiel Loves Coffee, Fluff, M/M, Mental Illness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sugary Sugar Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trigger Warning: Mental Illness, coffee pot, programmer!Cas, work at home!Cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-14 06:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14764545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jargedcoffee/pseuds/jargedcoffee
Summary: Despite the fog plaguing his mind, Castiel was at peace with his life. But one particularly bad day, he met Dean, and a series of events followed that would change his life forever.In a story that takes him through the highs and lows of life with an illness, Castiel discovers just what it means to live when one’s greatest enemy is himself.- or -Castiel finally talks to that cute barista from his favorite cafe. Awkward fluff ensues.





	1. A Particularly Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my own experiences, this fic is incredibly personal to me. It's also my first multi-chapter fic. I hope you guys like it. Leave a comment and let me know how I'm doing!
> 
> Questions? Other comments? Want to get updates on the fic? Just hit me up on Tumblr and click the Follow button: jargedcoffee.tumblr.com

Life was pretty much a breeze for Castiel. Two months since his college graduation, he had rented an apartment all to himself, had a job where he could work from home, and absolutely loved his coffee. Of course, it wasn’t until he moved into this old but well-maintained apartment that he finally bought a coffee pot of his own, because he was always too bogged down by college homework, exams, and projects to actually go out and buy one.

He’d hoped the sacrifice was worth it. He did graduate with honors.

Working from home had its benefits. He could sleep in later than everyone else, lying in bed until his 9:00 AM shift while reading mentally stimulating books or journaling. When he finally had the will to get out of bed, he’d make his daily morning coffee, and sometimes even breakfast. Unfortunately, cooking wasn’t his specialty. There were times when he’d get creative though, like making bacon and eggs _with actual spices_.

His love for coffee came from his high school days. He’d have one in the morning before he started his day and one as soon as he got home. Cafes made thousands of dollars off of him back then. They still do until now, since his coffee either came from his favorite cafe down the street or from the pot when he didn’t feel like leaving the house.

On this particular Tuesday, he chose the cafe as he had every day the past week.

With his wallet, laptop, and phone in tow, he marched down his apartment’s corridor, out the door, and onto the busy city street, fiddling with his phone as he travelled.

People rushed past him as he walked, speeding towards their next appointments while speaking to god-knows-who on their phones. Some of them met Castiel’s eyes, and he returned half-smiles in exchange for their judgmental looks. He often wondered whether he’d have become one of _those_ people if he’d taken an office job.

He wouldn’t have it any other way, really, because ever since he was in high school, he’d have days when he couldn’t think straight (in more ways than one). In times like those, it felt like a fog would surround his mind, clouding his thoughts. Eventually, he came to call it the the “burn-out fog”, probably from working too hard at school. It never used to affect him _too_ much, though.

After all, he _did_ graduate with honors.

A work-from-home job seemed like a great way for him to work around it for now. He’d practically beaten his mind to a pulp with all the sleepless nights he dedicated to years of high school and college. All he needed was time to recover. Maybe one day he’d take an office job, meet new people, have new friends -

_Bam._

Castiel tumbled onto the sidewalk floor, landing on his side while supporting his body with the hand holding his phone.

“Hey, watch it!” A passerby glared at him with a phone in his ear. “Yeah, yeah - sorry. Some jackass wasn’t looking where he was walking,” continued the man to his phone while he walked away in a heavy stride.

“Are you all right?” asked another passerby, who reached out a hand to help him up. Castiel saw her neck. She was wearing the largest set of pearls he’d ever seen, shadowed by hair dyed in a multi-colored rainbow.

“Yes, I’m fine. I appreciate the help, uh...”

“April! Heard what that guy said. Gosh, people are such rude screws, you know,” interjected April. She emphasized every word with a new facial expression, as if her emotions were playing out in real time.

Castiel smiled as April helped him up.

“Oh dear. Your phone.” She clutched her pearls.

Castiel examined his phone. The screen was cracked at the center.

“It must have collided with the ground when I fell. I suppose I’ll have it repaired.”

“Coolness! Sorry about the phone. Shoot - what a waste of cash.” April looked genuinely empathic and continued, “Hey, I’ve gotta go. Maybe I’ll see you again!” She absolutely beamed at Castiel while placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you again, April,” responded Castiel, returning the smile as April practically glided away. Well, at least someone brightened his day. Only seconds later, he bumped into someone else’s shoulder and was immediately rewarded with a scowl. “Sorry,” he said quickly.

Where was his mind today?

He eventually reached the cafe, still with the damaged phone in hand. When he opened the double-doors, he smelled the familiar aroma of brewing coffee. It was a second home for Castiel, where he would often work for hours on end. This cafe was his favorite in particular not just because of the quaint, traditional design of the wooden floors, walls, and the counters, but also because there weren’t many customers. Being around too many people was tiring for him, because his social skills were rusty from staying at home all day for the past two months.

He didn’t exactly refuse social interactions. He just didn’t have the chance to talk to people in person that often.

 _Ping_.

Zachariah, his manager, had messaged him, reminding him of the weekly 9:00 AM conference call in 10 minutes. His cheeks flushed red at how loud his phone was, so he immediately turned it to silent. Luckily, there were only two people at two separate booths on this day to hear it, and it looked like his phone was still working at least.

Get coffee. Open the laptop. Log on to the conference call. That was the plan.

He approached the counter stacked with mugs and espresso machines. Behind it stood the cashier who had started working at the cafe only a few days ago.

“Hey, Cas. What’ll you have today? Same thing?”

Castiel was taken aback, with his eyes widening. “You...know my name?”

“Dude, you’ve been coming here everyday the past week to order the same thing. Twice a day. Of course I know you.” The cashier’s eyes drilled into Castiel’s like they stared through him. He found this cashier’s eyes fascinating, to say the least. They were a reflective green, as if emeralds were seared into his irises.

Castiel’s heart thumped once against his chest. He couldn’t explain why, but he tried to stay cool.

Instead, he lost himself and paused for a few moments, leaning his head slightly to the side.

“Cas?”

“Indeed - I mean, yes. I will have the regular - uh, same - thing I order here. Regularly.”

Trainwreck. Castiel squinted his eyes and pursed his lips slightly, trying to distract from his slowly reddening face. His social skills _were_ rusty.

The cashier gave him a questioning look and said, “Okay, yeah. Sure.” His voice was low and gruff, with deep undertones that made Castiel’s head vibrate slightly. It cleared his head a little.

Ever since this cashier started showing up at the cafe, Castiel itched to converse with him beyond simply telling him what coffee he wanted (which was always the same thing). There was just something different about him, and, yes, maybe Castiel was feeling a bit lonely from working at home for the past two months.

Now was as good a time as any. Castiel searched for a good topic of conversation that could end quickly enough. He leaned his elbow on the counter and started.

“So, you work here?”

The cashier chuckled as he replied, “Yes, yes I do.”

Castiel chided himself in silence for his failed socialization attempt.

“That’ll be 4 bucks,” said the cashier as he finished punching in the order.

Well, that ended quickly, at least.

Castiel opened his wallet and handed over his money. The shame loomed over the fog in his head, melding together into a monstrous anxiety. He looked at the menu to distract himself from the embarrassment.

“You sure you don’t wanna try something else next time? I know which frappes are pretty awesome.” The cashier winked.

Castiel was taken aback, again. The cashier seemed to forgive his social slip-up.

“No, it’s not a problem. I enjoy black coffee more than the rest.”

“Black coffee’s pretty bitter. You a bitter kind of guy?”

Who _was_ this guy?

“My apologies. What is your name?”

“Me? I’m Dean. Nice to meet you, Cas,” said Dean as he pointed to his name tag. Castiel liked the way Dean said his name. His voice’s deep, dulcet tones soothed him. Dean held out his hand as if to shake Castiel’s, but the latter was too caught up looking at Dean’s face to react.

He scrutinized a very handsome face with masculine, symmetric features - a little too symmetric, chiseled to perfection by some heavenly sculptor. It unnerved Castiel. His skin’s temperature rose while he looked at Dean’s face, at his sharp but fine nose, and at his defined and angled jaw. Castiel couldn’t look away, but he felt terrible looking at Dean’s face - as if he didn’t deserve to look.

Castiel looked at his lips. They seemed...so soft.

Dean drew back his hand, and said, “Everything okay?”

Castiel must have been staring. His cheeks instantly burnt up and he really, really wanted to get his coffee and leave.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I must have lost myself. I’m not feeling well today.“ Castiel grabbed Dean’s drawn-back hand and shook it, which he realized afterward was an incredibly strange thing to do after staring at someone for god knows how long. Dean looked at him questioningly again.

Actually, he practically _gazed_ at Castiel, whose embarrassment was now at its limits.

Then he smiled.

“It’s all right. You need anything?”

“Just - just my coffee please.”

Dean suddenly glanced at Castiel’s hand. “Hey, your phone’s broken.”

Castiel immediately became conscious of the screen. Hoping not to cause anymore embarrassment to himself, he attempted to stow it in his pocket while saying, “it’s fine. It just - “, before abruptly dropping it on the ground.

“- fell,” continued Castiel as he looked down at his phone.

Dean smiled, silently laughing to himself. “I’ll go make your coffee. Sit down for me, will you? You look like you need some sleep.”

Castiel gave a lopsided smile, bent down, and picked up his phone.

Dean walked to the right, towards the espresso machines on the front counter, to start making coffee. Castiel took a seat and opened his phone, examining the damage. Dropping it a second time wasn’t too bad, but it certainly didn’t do any favors for the screen. He shot a look at Dean, who, by some horrible twist of fate, had glanced at Castiel at the same time. Castiel immediately looked back at his phone.

Castiel really needed his coffee. His mind wasn’t with him today, and the burn-out fog assaulted him in full force. What he would give to have a three-week vacation (or even a month or two!), but he had bills and rent to pay.

God forbid he go back to his parents’ house.

He opened his laptop and booted it up, glancing again at Dean as he did so. It was by another horrible twist of fate that he once again met Dean’s gaze. Castiel almost strained his neck with how fast he turned his head back to his laptop.

Looking at the clock, he saw that he still had 5 minutes before the meeting, and in his faded reflection on the laptop screen, he saw the giant mess that was his hair.

As if this day couldn’t get any worse, he’d just spent the past 20 minutes or so walking around the city looking like he’d just gotten out of bed (which was true). Not only that, but he just humiliated himself in front of a _tremendously cute guy_ by staring at him, dropping his phone, and speaking to him with cowlicks and tangles on his head _the whole time_.

Great.

The hair was also probably why people were judging him on the street and why he looked like he “needed some sleep”.

Leaving his things at the booth, he went to the restroom to fix his hair. This cafe’s bathroom was just as remarkable as the interior, with an old-fashioned but minimalist wooden look. The mirror wasn’t too shabby either, but Castiel always got conscious about the oil marks on it. He kept wanting to clean it every time he was here.

Maybe he could try mentioning that to Dean. At least he’d have a better conversation topic this time.

He opened the tap by the sink, wetting his hands and fixing his hair. The cool water calmed and awakened his fogged mind slightly.

The feeling was hard to describe. His mind was misty, as if he was standing in the middle of a cloud, trying to grab onto something to get his bearings, but he couldn’t. There was nothing to latch onto, just an endless sea of clouds wherever he looked - no blue skies, no warm sun to illuminate his thoughts.

He just floated.

He gripped both sides of the sink with his hands, trying to center himself. Unfortunately, the burn-out fog seemed to have gotten worse since he graduated. He was thankful at least that he was working at home. No commute meant he could rest his mind as quickly as his shift ended.

He splashed some water on his face, hoping to wake himself up further, when he heard Dean calling out his name.

“Cas! You there, buddy?”

Castiel immediately exited the bathroom and dashed to the counter, bumping his hip on the bathroom door as he went. It made a loud noise, flustering Castiel even more.

“Whoa, hey. Calm down man. I was just wondering why you left your stuff out here.”

“Sorry, I needed to urinate - I mean, I needed to go to the restroom.”

Dean laughed. For some reason, he found Castiel very funny.

“Ha. Don’t worry about it. Next time you need to go, you let me know. I’ll watch your stuff for you.”

Castiel smiled. He was a nice cashier indeed, in more ways than one.

“Thank you, Dean.” Dean smiled at Castiel too, and the latter felt his heart pumping. Unsure of what to say, Castiel just locked eyes with Dean for...a while. His mind was completely blank.

“Yeah....so, dude, your laptop’s been ringing nonstop for about 10 minutes now. You got a meeting or something?”

Castiel’s already running heart suddenly leaped. _How had time passed by so quickly?_

“Yes. I - I have a meeting.” This was his chance to make Dean forget about his awkwardness. He began striding purposefully towards his booth in the most dignified fashion he could, with his chest and chin held up high.

“Hey, Cas, your coffee?”

Castiel, being the father of all awkward situations, had forgotten his coffee. Dean grinned at him.

“Right. Yes. Thank you.” He grabbed his coffee and walked despondently to his booth, logging on to the conference call as he sat down.

As soon as the video conference opened, he saw the image feeds of six people on his screen, all conversing about something he’d already missed. His stomach churned. Seeing people only from the shoulders up always disoriented him. There could be body language he was missing - body language that might be saying, “Why are you never on time?”

“Good morning, Castiel. Wonderful of you to join us.”

“I apologize for being late. I was...not feeling well, Zachariah.”

“Now, now, Castiel, you call me Zach or I’ll dock points from your performance review,” quipped Zachariah, smiling at his _very funny_ joke. “However, I have noticed over the past two months that you don’t seem to feel well every week at our regular meetings. I even messaged you earlier today to remind you. Should we move the schedule for you?”

He grinned again, which made Castiel’s blood run faster. He was being attacked, and the five other people in the meeting were witnesses. If he didn’t say the right thing, his next words would be the talk of the company for the rest of the day.

“I...appreciate t-the thought, but t-his schedule is fine.”

A stammer. _Damn it_. Office politics absolutely wasn’t his thing.

“We’ll see. You’re late again and we’ll have another conversation - in private.”

In private meant having a video call between just two people, which Castiel found unpleasant. Sometimes he just didn’t know what to say. It didn’t help that the burn-out fog made thinking harder than usual.

The meeting was passing by in a blur. Zachariah was the type of person who’d wear a suit at home just to look authoritative in conference calls. Castiel didn’t like that, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Zachariah’s last words and about why he was always late for these meetings. This time he’d just been drinking coffee, waiting for it to kick in, and trying to wake himself up.

Coffee usually got him out of his fugues, but lately it hadn’t been working as well. He had been drinking coffee four times a day now - almost getting worried about whether it could damage his stomach because of the acidity. If coffee couldn’t help him, what would?

What was wrong with him?

He only realized how spaced out he was when Zachariah began repeating his name through the computer.

“Castiel? Hello? Has your connection gone bad or what?”

His heart thumped against his chest. All of the sudden, he was back in college, spacing out in class, and then being called by a teacher for a question.

“I’m sorry. What were we discussing?”

Zachariah tsked, then he smiled again, baring his teeth as a predator would.

“I’d be happy to fill you in on the meeting, Castiel. Why don’t _you_ log out of the video call and I can clear _my_ schedule so we can have a private chat?”

Castiel was hit by a truck. His chest began to sink deep into his stomach. This was probably the last proverbial straw.

“No, I’m well, Zach. Please, let’s continue.” He said the nickname hoping somehow it could change Zachariah’s mind about him and prove that he did listen, even if it was just about the name.

“I _insist_ , Castiel.” Zachariah was still showing his teeth, and Castiel knew what was coming.

Castiel left the conference call without saying another word. His hands tingled, awaiting the slap on the wrist he was about to get. Pushing away the thought, he rested his hands and head on the table.

The burn-out fog still hadn’t gone away, and now he felt physically weaker, like he was sinking into his chair.

He could get reprimanded or get fired. It could go either way with someone like Zachariah. If he got fired today, he didn’t know what he’d do. He wouldn’t be able to pay for his apartment, and he’d need to live back with his parents for a while.

God forbid.

That’d be something he’d have to think about. But for now, he just needed his coffee.


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's bad day continues, but at least there was that hot barista in the cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! In this chapter, we've got something (eventually) lighthearted!
> 
> Questions? Other comments? Wanna get updates on the fic? Just hit me up on Tumblr: jargedcoffee.tumblr.com

Castiel stared into space as the threat of getting fired loomed over his head. While he rested his chin on his hand, propped up by an elbow, he closed his eyes and breathed in a lungful of air. As he exhaled, he felt his tight shoulders loosen a little, but his heart still raced.

He needed some music.

Taking his earphones, he plugged them into his laptop, and began playing one of his favorite pieces: _Chopin’s Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2_.

He closed his eyes again, basking in the tranquil notes of the piece. The mellowed tones of the piano stroked his ears, slowly easing his shoulders and relieving his racing heart.

Other than the tardiness, he was doing fine at his job...right? Sometimes he wouldn’t log onto work on time because his sleep schedule made absolutely no sense, but no one would’ve noticed that...right? He’d respond to messages as quickly as he could anyway.

_Snap._

Castiel opened his eyes and saw Dean standing in front of him, snapping his fingers. He quickly took off one earphone as Dean mouthed words he couldn’t hear.

“Hey, sorry, Cas. Didn’t see the - uh -,” Dean pointed to his own ear, “- earphones.”

Castiel turned off the music and unplugged the earphones from his laptop, saying, “What do you need?”

“Can I clean this up now?” asked Dean as he pointed to Castiel’s empty cup.

“Yes. Of course.” Castiel moved to grab his cup and give it to Dean, but instead knocked it to the side, onto the floor, and it rolled under the booth.

Great.

“Sorry,” said Castiel. He quickly moved down to pick it up, but instead hit his forehead hard on the edge of the table.

“Agh!”

“Whoa. Crap. You okay?”

Castiel recoiled back into his chair, cupping his forehead with one of his hands and trying to massage the pain away.

“That was a hard hit. Can I take a look?” asked Dean, bringing himself closer to Castiel.

In his daze, Castiel removed his hand from his forehead and looked at Dean, who was _really_ close. As Dean scrutinized him from different angles, Castiel felt his heart flutter, slowly turning his face scarlet and making his forehead hurt even more.

“No bumps. You gonna be all right?”

“Yes, I will. Thank you, Dean,” said Castiel. They gave each other half-smiles for a moment, and Castiel felt a little light headed as he looked at Dean’s eyes.

 _Ping_.

“I - I have to take this call.”

“All right. Well, I gotta get back.” Dean bent down to get the fallen cup. When he stood up, he placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, and said, “Tell me if you need anything”. Afterwards, he walked away.

Castiel looked at him as he left, catching the faint scent of something sweet in the air behind Dean. Moving his gaze to the laptop screen, he checked his messages.

_Castiel, let’s meet now. Log on to my conference call._

He put on his earphones and logged on.

Zachariah’s face appeared on the screen, looking completely stone-faced. His left eyebrow rose up high and his lips pursed to all hell. The wrinkles on his face had materialized in full force, and Castiel inferred from his shoulders that his arms were crossed.

“I think it’s time for a performance review, Castiel.”

Castiel’s mouth dried up. He swallowed, and a sharp pain shot through his throat.

“Now, now. Don’t be scared,” Zachariah smiled, looking straight at his camera, “a performance review is nothing to be afraid of. We do this all the time with our new employees, making sure they’re...up to par with the company’s high standards of integrity, excellence, and professionalism.”

“I wish to apologize for being late earlier.”

“That won’t be necessary, Castiel. All’s well that ends well, am I right?”

Castiel’s eyes widened. This was it.

“After you left the meeting, I decided to collect reviews from your peers and managers about your performance, in line with our company’s 360-degree employee assessment program.”

A wave of anxiety crept up on Castiel, and he had to avert his eyes from the screen. He glanced up and saw that Dean was watching him while cleaning off dust from the counter with a cloth. They gave each other a quick smile, which made Castiel forget for a moment that he might be getting fired.

“Castiel. Are you listening? What are you smiling about?”

Castiel’s eyes widened, “My apologies. Someone was -”

“You should be listening intently to this meeting, Castiel. You’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Sir?”

“Call me Zach. As I was saying, your peers find your work...acceptable, but the powers-that-be seem to think that you could do better.”

“I -”

“I’m not finished.” Zachariah paused, softening his expression. “Castiel, I gotta be honest with you. We hired you for your stellar resume and glowing recommendations from your professors and internship company. Not to mention that you graduated with flying colors. We are disappointed that you haven’t exactly lived up to your... _potential_.”

Castiel felt like a child being scolded. It was unfair to expect so much from him after only two months of work. He sank into his seat, unable to say anything - not that Zachariah would’ve let him.

“For the past month, you’ve been consistently late for meetings, and you don’t log on to work on time,” he stopped, tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, and said, “Yes, Castiel, I noticed.”

Castiel’s eyes widened.

After a moment, Zachariah continued, “And your actual performance? I’m underwhelmed. Your work continues to pile up. I thought you would have more discipline. What do you have to say?”

Castiel took a short breath in, opening his mouth slightly as he thought of some eloquent excuse. Instead, what came out of his mouth was, “I’m sorry for my underperformance.”

“Yes. Consider this a slap on the wrist, _Castiel_. I am giving you feedback so you can do better before your three-month review. I’m sure I don’t have to mention the consequences of continuing your current performance.”

Castiel released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. This was basically a _professional_ way of saying “do better or get fired”, but at least he didn’t get fired. All he could say was, “Thank you. I will take note.”

“Excellent. Now, unfortunately, I have meetings to attend. Your resume says you can perform better, Castiel. Live up to it.”

“Yes. I will, sir - I mean, Zach.”

“Great. I’ll talk to you later.”

Zachariah ended the conference call right there. A wave of guilt mixed in with Castiel’s mind fog, and he ended up staring blankly at his laptop for a few minutes, fixating on his reflection.

Hearing that his performance left much to be desired was new to him. Pangs of guilt overshadowed the rest of his emotions, creating a pit in his stomach he couldn’t quite get rid of.

He rested his elbows on the table, burying his face in his hands. Then, he started rubbing circles on his eyes with his palms to calm himself.

Zachariah affirmed his greatest fear: that he wasn’t performing his duties very well. Castiel struggled to understand what was causing it. Certainly, he felt more tired than ever these days, probably because of the terrible sleep schedule he maintained from back in college.

Flicking his eyes to the side, Castiel’s eyes met with Dean’s, who immediately averted his gaze.

Yes, the glances were nice at first, but in private moments like these, Castiel liked to be left alone.

“Do you need something, Dean?” he inquired from his table.

“Nah, nothing. You’re just looking a little stressed out there, buddy.”

Castiel began to wonder whether Dean was _this_ attentive to every customer.

“I...I need coffee.”

“Same thing?”

“Yes, please.”

“Comin’ right up.” Dean began punching the order into the register. Castiel took out his wallet from his pocket and counted his money. _Great_. He didn’t have enough cash. Now he’d have to leave, find an ATM, and go back just to pay for his coffee. Castiel rolled his eyes at this realization, and when he finished, he caught sight of Dean looking at him...again.

Why did Dean keep looking at him? Was there something wrong with his face? His hair? His clothes? Castiel squinted his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows. Even though he enjoyed staring at Dean’s face and would love to take every chance to gaze at it, now was not the time to have some (hot) barista bugging him.

“Is there something amiss, Dean?” inquired Castiel with an icy tone.

“No, no - just - it’s on the house. You look like you need it.”

Castiel softened at the act of kindness, regretting his tone with Dean. “I wouldn’t dream of it, but I’ll need to go to the ATM,” he said.

“Really, Cas. It’s okay. Dude, you’re here every day - twice a day even. You’re getting free coffee - like it or not.” Dean smiled, and Castiel couldn’t really refuse anymore. Free coffee sounded great right now as a respite from his frustrations.

Castiel stayed put at his table, scratching the persistent itch at the back of his neck. His knees began bouncing up and down. After a moment, he realized how tight his face was and he immediately attempted to relax it.

He was just burnt-out. That’s why this day has been so terrible. That’s why he was late for meetings. That’s why he was underperforming.

He buried his face in his hands again. If he got fired for underperforming, his savings wouldn’t keep him afloat for long. After all, he’d only been working for two months while paying for bills, rent, and expensive coffee. To soothe his worries, he took his phone and opened his finance app, checking his daily expenses and figuring out what he could get rid of.

No. He couldn’t get rid of coffee.

Was food _really_ that important?

Castiel looked up. Dean had finished making his coffee, now standing at the handoff area. He moved to get his coffee but Dean had already begun walking towards him with the cup. He froze in his seat, observing the apron on Dean. It didn’t look right. Instead, he imagined Dean wearing a suit and tie. _Yes._ That was a nice thought. He liked that look on his men.

His men? He’d never even had one. What was he thinking?

Dean placed the cup on Castiel’s table. Then, he sat down across Castiel with folded arms.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. What was Dean doing?

“So, can I ask what’s up with you?”

Castiel’s raised eyebrow stayed up. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, man, you look like you just had a fight with your girlfriend - or boyfriend, whichever,” said Dean as he stretched out his arms and placed his hands behind his head.

The statement flustered Castiel. “No, no. I - I’ve never been in a relationship before.” He paused, debating whether or not to say what came next. “...I believe it would be a boyfriend, though,” he said with a lopsided smile.

Oh, if only Dean were actually interested in guys too.

“Really? Good looking guy like you never had a boyfriend? Damn,” said Dean, shaking his head. “I knew there was something wrong with this city.”

Blood rushed to Castiel’s cheeks. Dean thought _he_ was good looking? Perhaps this day could still be salvaged.

“The - the call was for work. My manager gave me a terrible performance review,” he said, trying to distract from the glee swelling in his chest.

“Wow”, said Dean. “That sucks, man.” He leaned forward, closer to Castiel, placing both his hands on the table. “What happened?”

“I was late for a meeting.”

“That’s it? Your manager sounds like he’s got a stick up his ass,” said Dean.

Castiel couldn’t help chuckling, not used to someone so forward. “Perhaps he might,” he retorted. After a moment, he took a sip of his coffee and continued, “Sorry, I meant to say meetings. Plural. For about a month now, I have been consistently late for meetings and work.”

Dean’s expression changed into one of empathy. He rested his elbows on the table and brought his hands together, intertwining his fingers.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like your job?”

Castiel waved it off and said, “No, no. The work is excellent, especially since I can work from my apartment.”

Dean beamed. “Oh, man. Sounds awesome. Wish I could work from my apartment. What do you do exactly?”

“I’m a web developer, so I do quite a lot of programming on a computer.” Castiel paused for a beat, looking down at the table. “I do enjoy it, but…” he stopped and looked to the side, thinking about whether it was proper to tell a stranger about his frustrations.

“What?”

He looked at Dean again. “Nothing. I seem to be the problem, but you’d probably rather not hear about that.”

Dean shook his head with a smirk, and said, “Nah, I do. You can tell me. They say _this guy_ ,” he pointed at himself with his thumb, “is a good listener.”

Castiel gave a half-smile. “Oh? And who are they?”

“People around.” Dean winked, sending Castiel’s heart into an arrhythmic mess. “So go on. Shoot. What’s up with you?”

Castiel took another sip of his coffee to contain himself and said, “I seem to be tired all the time. Ever since college, I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Dean leaned his head back. “Oooh, college guy, huh? You must be pretty smart. Way out of my league.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, and he fumbled with his words. “N-no, Dean. You’re very much - er - in,” he coughed, “my league.” _Shit._ Did he just say that? “I mean -”

Dean chortled as he replied, “Relax. Just messing with you.” He continued, “I never went to college. Wasn’t my thing.”

“Why not?”

Dean’s face slowly took on a neutral expression. “Taking care of a brother,” he said, looking down at his hands as he separated them. His index finger began silently tapping on the table as he thought. “I’m hoping _he_ gets through college. Kid’s smart, and - uh - has big dreams, you know? I gotta pay for his education and everything.”

“They must pay you very well at this cafe, then.”

“No, no. S’okay here, I guess. But I make most of my extra money as a 24-hour repair guy, like a handyman. That sort of thing.”

“I’m sorry. A what?

“24-hour repair guy. I fix all sorts of stuff - coffee pots, ovens, and whatever other crap there is out there. Thing is - if I get called for a repair at night or early morning, I get triple pay.”

It was only then that Castiel noticed the dark circles under Dean’s eyes.

Castiel felt Dean’s words weigh down on him. This seemed more personal. He could not for the life of him remember whether or not this was a normal topic of conversation for strangers. Suddenly, Dean seemed a lot more than just a pretty face now. A lot more date-worthy. Or at the very least, Castiel wanted to get to know him...and maybe kiss him...among other things.

“You sound like an excellent brother, Dean,”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel gazed down at his phone, trying to muster the courage to ask Dean out, but Dean caught him looking at the phone and said, “You should get that fixed.”

_Damn it._

Castiel fiddled with his broken phone as he spoke, “Yes. It broke when I crashed into someone on my way here.”

“Looks like you’re having a rough day, man.”

“Indeed. The man I bumped into also called me, as he put it, ‘a jackass’.”

“What a dickbag. So what’d you do?”

“Nothing. I did not wish to cause a commotion. A woman came to me to help.”

Dean grunted. “Can’t let people push you around like that, Cas. You know what? Next time it happens, call me and I’ll beat him up for you.”

Castiel couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “Perhaps I’ll take you up on that offer.” He paused, then said, “Thank you, Dean. For the coffee.”

“No problem,” said Dean, pointing a finger gun at Castiel and clicking his tongue, making Castiel chuckle.

They sat there in silence for a moment, with Castiel looking at his phone, thinking about how nice it would be to ask Dean out if he were just brave enough. Dean looked around left and right, bouncing his head up and down slightly. Speaking to Dean felt nice. For a while now, the only people Castiel regularly spoke to were workmates, and those were professional conversations over video calls.

Talking to someone in real life again felt good. The fact that it was a hot barista was icing on the cake.

“Hey, Cas. Listen, I get off at 5 -”

“Would you wish to go out with me?”

Dean stared at Castiel, whose face was now red-hot and plastered with widened eyes. What could have possibly made him think that asking Dean out was a good idea when he looked like a mess and what if Dean wasn’t even into guys and now he was panicking because he’d probably turned him off and -

Dean smirked.

Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. I guess it’s a date.”

Castiel could have cried tears of joy. He smiled.

“Yes - yes I suppose it is.”

A slap on the wrist and a date. It wasn’t a bad deal actually. Maybe today wasn’t so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. A date. Do you think it'll go nicely? ;)
> 
> Thanks to all my beta readers: @tsunderegenius (Tumblr), @christenpressgoals (Tumblr), Lovely, and Dyosa. Without you, this chapter would probably be shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, please. I live on feedback. It is my food, my blood, my soul, and I appreciate each one I get.
> 
> Thanks to all my beta readers: @tsunderegenius (Tumblr), @christenpressgoals (Tumblr), Lovely, and Dyosa. Without you, this fic wouldn't be as not shit as it is now.
> 
> Questions? Other comments? Want to get updates on the fic? Just hit me up on Tumblr and click the Follow button: jargedcoffee.tumblr.com


End file.
